Charlie Grayson
Information Name: Charlie Grayson Age: 21 Hair Color: Brown Eye Color: Brown History To be added later. Victim in Holding: Her best friend, Ashley Dress and Mask To be added later. Charlie's Prologue Charlie was completely exhausted. She stretched out her languid form along her plush bed, her brown locks fanning out beneath her as she laid with her arms and legs spread apart. Sighing deeply, Charlie got up from her bed to slip into a pair of skinny jeans and a gray sweatshirt, along with her favorite pair of black Converse sneakers. Her deep, brown eyes were dull; they lacked that playful twinkle that was always hidden within her intense gaze. Her eyes reflected that of a broken woman; the twenty-one year old could no longer provoke the flame within her to flicker. She was wild, saucy and playful; she couldn't be tamed! But now...now she was damaged, only a shell of whom she used to be. Her heart had been broken by a man she thought had loved her with the same intensity that she had loved him, but no. She was mistaken, for she found him doing the vertical tango with another woman at his house. She clenched her fists at the memory, knuckles changing to an ivory white as she squeezed her dainty hands even harder. Her nails stung her palm as they left behind crescent-shaped wounds in their wake. Her anger managed to ignite a flame that burned within her chest, though it was once again smothered by the bittersweet taste of rejection. She wanted to be herself again, but most of all, she wanted to be loved. "Damn it, it's raining again." She groaned softly, running her fingers through her chocolate brown tresses. Slowly, she made her way to the front door, snatching her keys off the marble kitchen counter in the process. Pulling up her hood to shield herself from the rain, she exited her apartment. She scuffed her sneakers along the pavement, frowning at the sound of running water that sloshed against her sneakers while doing so. After a few moments the rain finally ceased its relentless assault on her body. Just as the rain stopped, a metallic smell infested her nostrils. She cringed as the unmistakable smell of gore began its onslaught on her sense of smell. Looking down, she finally noticed her sneakers had come to rest in a small stream of water that was tinged a light pink, and then began to flow into a deeper, more shocking shade of red. "Blood..." She croaked to herself as she crept toward the alleyway from which the small stream had originated. "Ugh...god...," she groaned, "This is like a freaking horror movie..." As she moved closer, the stench became stronger. She came to a stop, her heart hammering painfully against her ribs as the silhouette of a man came into view. The figure illuminated the alleyway with a single, glowing appendage on his right hand, as if ablaze with Hell's fire. "Holy shit..." She squeaked as she shuffled back, her hood falling away. 'Was that his finger?!' she screeched incredulously in her thoughts. The man raised his elongated, almost claw-like, finger toward his face, finally revealing the countenance of the monster with its glow. He had without a doubt killed the person from which the horrid stench had originated. Charlie couldn't help but gape at the man in front of her, if you could even call him a man. His skin was tinged a deep red, and purple tendril-like dreadlocks fell into his face as he grinned a Devil's grin at her. His high cheekbones and pointed chin gave him a sly, almost clever appearance. Why, if Charlie were in any other position, she would have actually found him quite attractive. One of his long, talon-like fingers tilted his shades downward, liquid gold eyes peeking out beneath them. "Hi, Baby!" He crooned smoothly as he slowly sauntered over to her, his black trench coat swaying with momentum. His Cheshire grin was still present and irking as ever, though she couldn't help it as a shudder danced along her spine. With every step he took toward her, Charlie was sure to counter with one foot backward. "Now, now, Charlie, no need to be so jumpy," he purred in a velvety tone. "How do you know my name?" She stopped all movement, to which he smirked slyly. "I've been watching you Charlie Grayson," he crooned softly, as he continued his journey toward her. He dragged his slimmer and longer index finger (which was still alight with a burning glow) along the wall opposite him, leaving behind a trail of heated cracks that burned a bright red, beginning to fester and swell. "Red Death," she gasped softly, her soft pink lips beginning to quiver. Her mind instantly scrambling together her memory as she recalled when she watched the News the night before, stating that The Red Death had been haunting Kite City. Leaving behind his mangled and feverish victims to die in the gutters. He grinned wolfishly as he tucked away his shades. "Haha! That's right, baby!" he crowed as he reached out a clawed hand and took her chin in his palm, stroking her bottom lip with the tip of his claw before cupping her face. His hand was hot, bordering on scorching. "You always were quite the looker, Charlie, such a shame about Matthew. Maybe, I'll just take a shot at you," he mused. "What do you want from me, Red?" She spat, angry at the mention of her ex-boyfriend. He smirked at the nickname she had bestowed upon him. "I came across someone yesterday...someone you know. Oh, what was her name?" he teased. "Oh yeah, Ashley." Charlie's eyes widened, tensing at the name of her best friend. Ashley was always there for her, she was there when her parents were murdered and when she had the displeasure of finding out about her boyfriend's 'activities'. Ashley was like her other half, the sister she never had. Charlie's dull, brown eyes sparked back to life as they darkened to a fierce burgundy. Her cheeks flushed a light pink in anger as his words triggered the fire within her (which had long ago burned out) to flicker once before breaking out into a wild, blazing inferno. Her hand shot up and grabbed the collar of his coat, her fingers gripping tightly onto the rough fabric. "Don't you dare touch her!" she growled. Before she knew it, she was forcefully shoved into the alleyway wall, his fingers digging into her shoulders. "Oh! That's what I like to see! You were always so full of fire," he hissed breathily, leaning in closer. Charlie could almost taste the words on his lips as his steaming breath washed over her face. She shook under his mercy, now vulnerable to his wicked gaze. "Now, if you want to see your little friend again, you'll attend my Ball tonight at seven o'clock sharp. You dig, baby?" He smirked viciously, digging his claws into her flesh even further, causing small beads of blood to pool beneath his fingertips.Charlie locked eyes with him with a new, no longer numb and unfeeling, raging fire that would rival that of the deepest pits of Hell. "Yeah, I got it, Red." I smirked, eyes dancing with a new found light. "I'm finally back. I was wondering when I would go back to my old self," she murmured in her thoughts. He blinked, taken aback by her change in attitude before retracting himself from her person. "Glad we've come to an understanding, baby." He smirked widely, slipping his shades back on. "Now, run along home, my little spitfire." He turned from her, sauntering away in the opposite direction. "Hey!" she called out. His response was a glance over the shoulder. "You better watch out. This little stunt you pulled has revived what was left of the old me. The old me is back Red, and she's pissed." She placed her hands on her hips; staring after him as if staring hard enough would force him to combust into flames. "Sounds hot, baby. Bring it on!" He crowed as he threw her a haughty smirk and a wink before disappearing in a flash of red and black. Scowling, she began walking back to her apartment. Upon arriving, after taking off her soaking sneakers, she saw a deep red box that was perched atop her kitchen table, wrapped in a black silk ribbon. A tag dangled from the sleek fabric: Hey Baby! Here's a little gift from me to you, thought you could use this for the upcoming ball. Might I add, you'll look damn F-I-N-E in this. By the way, a ride will pick you up at exactly 6:30. Failure to comply will get your little friend a one way ticket to hell, so you better get that hot little ass of yours into that Limo if you don't want that to happen. See you soon, my little spitfire. ;) P.S. The name's Thrax, baby. -The Red Death Rolling her eyes, she carefully untied the ribbon and pried open the box. Needless to say, Charlie's jaw almost scraped the floor. The dress was a stunning red strapless gown with beautiful silver embroidery around the middle, and a bottom that flared out into soft ruffles before spiraling up with flower-like designs. "I'm coming for you Ashley, don't you worry. I'm coming." That very day, Charlie had become one of the many victims of the Red Death. Though she felt so alone, she had come to realize that there had to be so many others who had the displeasure of coming into contact with Thrax, or so she would like to think. As her kitchen clock tolled an hour away, she decided to slip herself into her gown and got ready for the Masquerade. An hour later she approached the vehicle that had been awaiting her arrival outside her apartment, her dress clinging to her curves and brown ringlets bouncing with every step she took. The sleek black mask that now adorned her face could not conceal the deep red eyes flaring with anger, a fire flickering within there depths with every thought of Ashley. "If there's anyone out there who has been robbed of a loved one, such as I," she murmured as she stepped into the Limo, "You're not alone. I too have been touched by the Red Death."